Reign of the Blightbringer
by Arthasvs.Leon
Summary: The epic third part of my C/L event that started with "Goodbyes". Just as Claire and Leon begin to realize how they feel for each other, a mysterious stranger will come to take Leon away. A WC/RE crossover event!
1. Meeting the Organization

Meeting the Organization

**Author's Disclaimer: **I do not own the rights to "Resident Evil" or "WarCraft". I write this out of love for both series.

**Dedication: **I dedicate this work to three women who never stopped believing in me:

Gabby Garcia Neumann, for always being willing to read my work. Thanks for your support through my angsty times.

Veronica Garcia Neumann, for being my muse and one of the reasons I wake up in the morning. You have no idea how much you have helped me this year, my dearest friend. And you will always mean the world to me.

Umbrella's Worst Enemy, for being there to support me since Day One on this site. Thank you for your kind words and support. They mean a lot to me. And thank you for being my biggest fan before I even published anything. :-P

For what you have done for me, for what you continue to do for me, and what we have been through and share, I love all three of you very much. You all mean the world to me!

Ada Wong quickly shut the helicopter hatch and sat down in the cold, hard seat as the helicopter left Leon Scott Kennedy on the iron platform he had just vanquished Osmond Saddler on. She stared out of the window as Saddler's stronghold erupted in a brilliant display of smoke, fire, metal and rock. As the helicopter flew over a gaping maw in the side of the island, a jet ski carrying two passengers flew out of the cave, followed immediately by a wall of rock and water.

Ada smiled softly as she placed the sample in a container generously provided to her by the pilot. Suddenly, her PDA began to blip. She smiled softly as she opened the PDA and looked at the screen. The face of Albert Wesker stared back at her through the flat screen of the device in her hand.

"Albert," Ada said with a hint of satisfaction in her voice "I have the sample."

Even though Wesker was wearing his signature sunglasses, Ada could see his eyes light up with restrained excitement.

"Excellent." Wesker said, trying his best to be remain calm and dignified. "Have you dealt with Leon and Saddler?"

"Unfortunately," Ada replied "I managed to deal with Saddler, but Leon and Ms. Graham managed to escape."

Wesker shifted uncomfortably in his seat "That's unfortunate. I thought you had him wrapped around your finger."

Ada shrugged "Guess he got unraveled."

"Indeed." Wesker said with a distinct hint of suspicion. "Well, at least you have the sample. I'm going to make my way to the Rendezvous point that the Organization has told us to meet at. The pilot has the coordinates."

"Understood." Ada said simply before she flicked her PDA unit off.

Just as the screen turned black, the fatigue and exhaustion from her most recent mission slammed into her light body like a sledgehammer. Her muscles ached and screamed from her over-exertions and her brain seemed to throb with an undeniably powerful life force. She felt as if there was another being in her mind, trying to break free like Athena from the head of Zeus.

She laid back in utter exhaustion, trying her best to sleep over the cutting screeches of the helicopter blades.

"Ms. Wong?!?" She heard a voice call out to her in the darkness. She groggily looked up and saw the pilot staring at her. "WE'RE JUST COMING UP TO THE LANDING SITE!!"

Ada nodded briefly and turned to look down at the landscape below them.

The pure sapphire of the ocean had vanished and was replaced by an emerald carpet of trees.

She watched as they flew over the rugged landscape and over tree-covered mountains till she saw the rendezvous point materialize just over a tall range of mountains.

There, hidden in a valley that never seemed as if any humans had ever dared call this land, was proof to the contrary. A massive and elaborate castle compound laid at the bottom of the valley, its majestic dull grey walls festooned with green vines that snaked their way around the stone like veins. From atop the many towers and along the parapets, Ada could make out what must have been hundreds of black figures patrolling the grounds.

As the helicopter slowly made its descent to the wide inner courtyard of the castle, Ada began to check all of the equipment she had brought with her. Her PDA, her grappling gun, her pocket knife, her Blacktail. Everything seemed to be in order. She smiled softly as she held her Blacktail in her hands. For some reason, she felt a strong, almost overpowering urge to replace the half-empty magazine in her weapon. She knew nothing could happen now that she was safe, but her gut instincts had never failed her before.

She nodded as she silently removed the magazine and replaced it with a fresh one. Her last full mag.

The helicopter set down just as she holstered her weapon, and a pair of tall men in black robes with gold and violet trim stepped out and ran over to the chopper. The men slid the door open and stood at perfect attention.

Ada reached over and grabbed the case containing the sample and stepped out of the helicopter. Just as she did that, the massive iron doors of the keep wailed and groaned to life as they opened.

Ada watched as Albert Wesker emerged from the opening, flanked by a pair of robed soldiers. Ada could see that the mouths of all of the robed men were completely covered by their violet scarves. She could also see that the two soldiers behind Wesker were armed with wicked-looking short spears.

"Ada," Wesker greeted his operatively as warmly as he could. A hint of ice was in his voice as he spoke "I'm so glad you could make it."  
"You have no idea how glad I could too." Ada replied casually.

Wesker smiled and asked "You have it?"

Ada smiled assuredly at Wesker and gave him the case.

Wekser held the case in both of his hands as if he was just given the command codes that would make him ruler of the world. And in a sense… maybe he was.

"Excellent." Wesker said flatly, trying to maintain his composure and hide his excitement. "Come now. He's waiting for us."

Ada nodded as Wesker and the robed men began to walk back to the keep. She followed Wesker into the gaping maw of the keep and could hear and feel the scraping of iron on stone and mud as the heavy doors began to shut.

Just as the doors closed, a dagger of wind stabbed Ada right in the face. Her eyes began to sting and her body was covered with goosebumps as thousands of imaginary icy knives and needles emerged from the walls and shot at her, bombarding her with a chill that pierced clean through her.

Wesker smiled cynically as he watched his operative shake and shiver involuntary in the frost of the keep. He too felt the cold, but he was so used to it that he was not even all that aware of it. The Organization preferred to meet in places like this.

The halls they traveled were long and dark, and still filled with an icy presence that did not cease in tormenting Ada's worn out and weary body. Even though she could not see them, she felt the presence of countless robed men who were walking past them in the near darkness or standing as sentinels. All of them seemed to stare at them with the same icy blue eyes that were like the imaginary daggers that stabbed her from all directions.

Finally, the entourage came to a halt before a forbidding set of oak doors wrought with iron. Standing in front of the doors was a pair of robed men carrying the same short spears as the guards of the entourage.

One of the guards spoke to one of the comrades keeping watch over the door. The pair spoke in a hushed, hissing language that seemed to be just as cold and icy as the atmosphere of the castle.

The two sentinels nodded to one another and pushed the doors open. Just as the opened the doors, the other two guards motioned for Wesker and Ada to go in. Wesker nodded briefly and led Ada into the room beyond. Just as they entered, the doors behind them were shut. And Ada could have sworn that she heard a distinct locking sound.

For a minute, Ada was mesmerized by the prodigious room they were now locked in. The room they were now in was an enormous and grand great hall, its high arched ceiling gave it the look of an ancient cathedral. There were no windows in the room, yet everything seemed to glow with an unnatural pale azure light. She could see no natural or other means for the light, yet did not question it.

The walls were festooned with elaborate tapestries depicting scenes of battles between knights, green-skinned brutes, elegant purple women, and rotting corpses. Each tapestry was separated by the pillars that rose up to support the ceiling. Just before they columns touched the ceiling, each one had a platform that held an enormous and elegantly carved gargoyle. The beasts looked so perfect that Ada had the briefest notion that they might come to life and attack her.

In the center of the room was a massive wooden table draped with a shimmering violet table cloth. On top of the table was the most elegant and elaborate assortment of meats, cheeses, fishes, vegetables and breads either of them had ever seen in their lives. Accompanying the rich foods were ornate pitchers that must have contained some sort of refreshment.

Ada felt herself trying to regain her breath as she saw the people sitting around the great table. There were five men in total. Two men sat on the right of the table, with another pair seated on the left. A chair on both sides flanked the fifth man, who sat at the head of the table.

All five men wore similar dress, massive and incredibly detailed black and silver armors covered in spikes, skulls, and runes. The whole engraved images gave the huge men an even more terrifying appearance. All of the men had long white hair that looked as if they were centuries old, yet their faces looked young and still full of vigor. Yet, despite the youth in their faces, their expressions were old and weary, as if they were truly older than anyone Ada had ever met before.

The man at the head of the table, who seemed even paler than and more worn than anyone else at the table, rose up and extended his arms warmly. He spoke in a cold voice that seemed to come from anywhere but his throat. "My friends, welcome to New Icecrown!"

Wesker smiled in kind. "Thank you, King Arthas. Ada and are honored to be welcomed by you."

The man Wesker called "Arthas" smiled warmly and walked over to Wesker. Ada took the time to study the man's features. He had heard Wesker talk about this "Arthas" extensively over recent months. A man who was supposed to be in control of the organization that they worked for. Aside from that, she knew nothing about him. And yet, here she was, face to face with the man himself.

Arthas placed his hands on Wesker's shoulders in greeting, and gazed deeply into his eyes. Ada looked over and Arthas, and instantly admired the man. He stood almost as high as Wesker, yet he seemed to need to look down to address him. His skin was a sickly white, crossed by pale blue rivers of veins that ran under his skin. His chin was partially covered in stubble, and his hair was deathly white. It almost looked as if he was a walking corpse.

The only part of Arthas that seemed to be alive were his incredible blue eyes. They were a blue Ada had never seen before. They were nearly clear blue, with a deep, piercing chill coming from deep within them. Despite how deathly pale his eyes were, she could feel an unnatural power emanating from deep within him. I life force that was stronger than anything she ever felt before.

She couldn't explain it to herself, but she was intrigued by him. And terrified.

Arthas turned to face her, filling her instantly with an even greater dread and icy terror. He smiled coldly and said "Ms. Wong, I greatly thank you for your efforts to bring this… magnificent specimen to us."

Ada felt herself blush and she replied "It was my honor and pleasure, sir."

Arthas tried to smile warmly "Please… call me 'Arthas'."

Ada felt herself involuntarily nod and she said "Very well, Arthas."

Arthas smiled again and gripped her shoulder. She could feel a pang of ice run through her body from his hard, iron-like touch. She fought back the urge to yelp in pain and discomfort as Arthas declared "MY FRIENDS!! I HAVE HERE THE WOMAN RESPONSIBLE FOR DELIVERING THE REASON WE HAVE COME TO THIS WORLD!!"

The men at the table let out a cheer and lifted their goblets in admiration to her.

Ada blushed slightly at the accolade, yet felt the touch of concern on her mind.

_Did he just say "come to this world?"_

Ada brushed it off. Surely that wasn't what she heard. Must have been her imagination along with her fatigue.

Arthas smiled again and guided Ada and Wesker to the table. Wesker sat at his right while Ada took a place at his left.

Arthas smiled with satisfaction as he poured Ada's goblet for her. The liquid was blood red, and yet did not flow like wine. It almost seemed to have trouble coming out of the bronze pitcher.

When the goblet was filled, Arthas raised his own and declared "TO ADA WONG!!"

The entire table echoed the toast, which made Ada blush crimson. She tasted the drink, and was surprised by it. It was the sweetest tasting wine she had ever tasted in her entire life. It was like a mixture of honey, wine, and something else she couldn't identify. The sweetness caught her by surprise, and she found herself downing the entire goblet.

The feast was incredible. Ada could barely remember the last time she had eaten so well in her life. She enjoyed the high-life and the finer things life had to offer, but she had never savored a meal that was quite like that.

Ada tried her best to reframe from gorging, but her appetite seemed to know no limits, and she could not stop herself from eating or drinking everything she could.

Almost an hour into the feast, Arthas smirked at Ada and said "So, Ms. Wong, it had to be very hard to obtain that sample by yourself."

Ada finally paused her feeding frenzy. She blushed crimson as she was addressed, and dabbed her lips with her napkin.

Trying her best to regain her composure, Ada nodded "Well, it was difficult. But not impossible."

"Especially since she wasn't alone." Wesker said "She did have the assistance of Lt. Jack Krauser."

Arthas's eyes seemed to glow an unholy azure at the mention of Krauser. Ada felt herself grow very cold again all of a sudden. She mentally summoned up her inner defenses, as if to keep Arthas from probing her mind. Not that he could. Right?

"Ah, yes." Arthas said with an enlightened tone. "Krauser. And where is the good lieutenant?"

Ada did her best to keep from turning red. "He's dead."

Arthas released a gasp at her response, which Ada frowned slightly at. For some reason, it seemed very fake and in fact… prepared. Could he have known Krauser was already dead?

Then again, Wesker probably told him. That had to be it. Yet, why did he feign his shock then.

"What a shame." Arthas said in a consoling tone. "Was he killed by Leon?"

Ada felt her entire body screech to a halt at the question. She turned to face Arthas and his dagger-like eyes. She was so scared of what she saw in those blue eyes of his. They reminded her of Leon's. But only just enough that she could stand staring into them.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ada flashed a smile at Arthas and asked innocently "Who?"

Arthas's expression turned just as cold as the atmosphere around them. "Don't play coy with me, Ms. Wong. Many have tried. And all fail miserably. I know of the man the United States sent to save Ashley Graham."

Ada turned to face Wesker, but Arthas interrupted her. "Albert did not need to tell me anything about Leon Kennedy. I observed all of the events that transpired during the operation." He paused and chuckled "I must admit, I was more than impressed with this Leon's skill in battle. He proves to have a tact, resourcefulness, and sheer talent that you just don't see in this world."

"Yes, my King." One of the armored giants, the one sitting next to Ada, said "He seemed to remind me of yourself."

Arthas smiled and replied "Do you really believe so, Lord Darkhallow?"

Another soldier, the one next to Wesker piped in "I agree, my King. He seems to possess a fire and vigor we have not seen since your days as a Paladin."

Ada kept his eyes on the new speaker. Paladin? What was a Paladin?

Arthas chuckled warmly and said "I agree with you, Baron Morte. He did seem to remind me of my younger, more foolish years."

The armored men all seemed to agree, and Wesker was smiling warmly at Ada the whole time.

Ada hated being kept in the dark. What's more, she felt uneasy about hearing all of these men talk about Leon when none of them even knew him. What was with all this talk of Leon anyway?

"I must say," Arthas declared "When we came to this world, I only expected to come for the precious creatures known as Las Plagas. But now…I see that we may be here for something else entirely."

Arthas rose from his seat and addressed the audience "My friends, I propose that we invite Mr. Kennedy to join our ranks as a Death Knight of the Scourge!"

The entire table erupted with cheers as Arthas made his declaration. Even Wesker seemed to applaud Arthas's proclamation.

Ada could do nothing but sit and listen to the cheers of the men at the table, and feel herself be dragged into the icy darkness that began to consume her.


	2. Breaking the Deal

Breaking the Deal

**Author's Disclaimer**: I solemnly swear I do not own the rights to "WarCraft" and "Resident Evil".

Ada looked at the massive armoured men who surrounded her, and then turned to Wesker, who simply smiled at her and said, "Ada? Do you have the sample on you?"

The spear of speech slammed against the glass wall that seemed to encase Ada, shattering it with an almost audible crash. Her ears rang with Wesker's words as she turned to meet his gaze. She could feel his snake-like eyes glare at her from behind his glasses and stab her like daggers, impaling her right to her chair.

After what seemed like a pocket of eternity, Ada broke free of the bonds holding her still and turned her head to face King Arthas. The pale man locked his eyes with hers, captivating her with his crystal blue eyes that pulsed with life, yet were hard as stones. The still yet awesome power in his pupils blazed and pulsed slowly and methodically in an intense pattern that entranced Ada in both intrigue and terror.

After a second that stretched to infinity, Arthas slowly smiled a wicked and warm grin. "Now I'm sure that she does not need to provide us with the creature at the moment. After all, she is still exhausted from her mission."

His smile warmed slightly as his gaze intensified, sending another barrage of icy daggers into Ada's body, "You do have the sample, correct?"

Ada tried to speak, yet found that she lacked the strength and will to open her mouth and issue words. She forced herself to inhale deeply, sending a deep gust of much-needed oxygen into her body, providing her with the strength to search her inner sanctums for the will to reply.

"Of course I do." A weak smile crossed her lips as she responded to his question.

Arthas smiled again and sank further back into the chair, "Excellent. I believe that we shall allow you to hold it for the time being."

A wall of realization had just smashed into Ada, whispering into her ear that she had just been given a free chance at life. Something deep inside of herself told her that the men who surrounded her were not going to allow her to leave this room. At least, not unless she was being carried out in a bag.

Arthas could sense the floods of panic welling inside of her, and knew that he had to do something to keep her under his control. "Ms. Wong? Was the support I provided you sufficient?"

Ada turned to Arthas for a moment, and pondered his statement. Support? When did he send her any support? It took her several seconds before she remembered the masked merchants who provided her with the killing machines she used during her mission. "Oh yes. Thank you for the support, King Arthas."

She felt a criticism rise in her bowels, and forced herself to keep from speaking out of turn. A gag issued from her throat and she said, "Although, I would have certainly appreciated more, direct assistance."

Arthas chuckled, "I'm sorry that I could not provide troops to assist you, but the soldiers that I would have sent you would have been… difficult for you to control, I'm afraid."

Ada grimaced at his remark. From what she had seen, the only troops he had at his command were those robed men and women walking around the compound carrying spears, halberds and swords. How could they be so difficult for her to command? Was it that they only spoke that icy tongue she heard them converse in moments ago?

"Tell me, Lady Wong." Arthas inquired, changing his tone to a more formal demeanor, "What is your relationship with Sire Kennedy?"

Ada turned to Arthas and frowned. What was with the sudden tone in voice? And why was he so interested in Leon? All of this talk of Leon, his skills, and his tact. And what was a Death Knight?

Ada took a gulp and said, "I knew Leon six years ago in Raccoon City. He was just a rookie cop, and it was his first day on the Force. When I met him, he was so naïve and easy to manipulate. And yet, he was so honourable and already seemed to possess superior survival skills. In fact, you only needed to look at him to know he was meant for more than being some cop in a hick town like that."

Arthas and the others nodded in unison, intrigued by Ada's words. She continued, "He's been in every tough situation you can imagine, and he always comes out smelling like roses."

Arthas chuckled in a cold voice that filled the hall, "A first-rate survivor? Intriguing."

"And to top that off," Wesker piped in, "He is the primary bodyguard to the family of President Graham."

The light in Arthas' eyes blazed like a comet in the sky for the briefest moment, sending even more knives of frost into Ada. "I do believe that this Leon Kennedy is indeed someone who would make an excellent addition to our ranks."

Baron Morte nodded, "And what's more is that we already have a bind on him from Krauser's knife."

Ada's head snapped in the direction of the speaker and she asked, "What bind?"

"The bind from Krauser's blade, milady." Baron Morte answered, "His blade was a minor runeblade in the form of his original weapon. Those who are cut by the dagger are instantly marked and carry with them a miniscule taint from the weapon."

"I take it that you are referring to a poison?" Ada inquired, trying her best to maintain her normally calm and even demeanor.

The Death Knights and Arthas chuckled. Lord Darkhallow replied, "Is that all your feeble mind can comprehend? A mere poison would seem like a blessing to him compared to what he shall endure now."

Ada couldn't stand the cold, calculating tone of the man who had just spoken. She could almost sense a bit of happiness in his voice as he spoke, as though the suffering Leon was about to undergo was a form of entertainment to him.

"And what exactly is he tainted with?" Ada asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Arthas turned to face her, his eyes blazing with the color or ice. "Me."

Ada locked her eyes with Arthas, and was smacked with his words. Infected with Arthas? How was that possible?

As Ada stared back into Arthas' eyes, she found herself slipping deep into his soul. She tried her best to resist, but some unseen, overwhelming force grabbed her viciously and dragged her forward. She watched helplessly as the madness of this man who called himself a King played out before her. She watched in horror as the events of his life began to reenact themselves. She watched as he wiped out an entire city of innocent people, stole a cursed runeblade, slew his own father, obliterated his own people, and set forth on a crusade that threatened to purge his homeland clean of the taint of life.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ada was finally freed of her mad captor, and found herself gasping desperately for air. Her chest heaved as though she had been running for hours from a relentless hunter. Hot tears formed in her eyes and threatened to flood her cheeks, yet she did her absolute best to keep her shell from cracking.

Arthas, Wesker, Baron Morte, Lord Darkhallow, and the other two men seemed to smile wickedly at her, each one shooting her with invisible arrows and javelins of ice. Her eyes darted from one face to the other, hoping to find some peace and semblance of sanity, and all she found was madness upon madness.

It was then that she perceived, that perhaps it was her time to leave.

Ada summoned all of her courage and strength, turned slowly to face Arthas, and smiled softly, "If you'll excuse me for a moment, Arthas? I must visit the little girl's room."

The other souls at the table remained silent, and turned to watch her as she left. The only sound came from Ada's heels as they slapped against the stone floor.

"Lady Wong?" Arthas's voice echoed throughout the hall, freezing Ada in her tracks.

She turned to face the men sitting at the table and smirked, her arms folded against her chest, "Yes?"

Arthas rose from the table, elevating to his full height of six feet. His shoulders were even broader and his hair seemed to flow like banners in the wind. "Where do you think you are going?"

Ada could feel Arthas reach for something on his waist, but she couldn't tell what. She thought she heard a crack and the sound of stone breaking. Her eyes lifted up, and she could make out light cracks in the statues above her. Stone pieces and gravel toppled to the floor with audible thuds and slaps.

"I told you, Arthas." Ada responded as coolly as possible. "I need to use the little girl's room."

A wicked grin was born on Arthas' lips as he spat, "There is no 'Little girl's room', here."

Ada smiled tenderly, and began to walk backwards slowly. Her right hand slid down her dress and grabbed the handle of her Blacktail.

"AFTER HER!!" Arthas bellowed as his own right hand snapped to his waist and pulled out a long, wicked-looking blade. The perfect steel of the blade sang a high-pitched note as it left the leather scabbard and glistened even in the pale light of the room.

The entire table erupted as the Death Knights rose and unsheathed their own swords. Their blades were black with silver runes etched across the metal.

Ada smirked at them. She was armed with a gun, and all they had were swords. What could they do to harm her?

Just then, the entire ceiling seemed to erupt and roar to life. Stone and mortar erupted and flew off the gargoyles above her, revealing the thick, grey leathery skin living beneath it. The great wings of the giant bat-like monsters flapped to life as an inhuman shriek was born in their throats.

Ada looked up at the living gargoyles in shock, her hands gripping the Blacktail like a child would a blanket. She raised the weapon and fired, tearing a whole into the wings of one of the beasts. Needless to say, the monster was not pleased.

She raised her gun again and fired wildly at the gargoyles as they shot off their pedestals and flew through the air towards her. A trio of gargoyles dive-bombed towards her with frightening speed, and she performed a cartwheel in order to avoid them. The three beasts crashed into each other in a violent orgy of blood and leather. She raised her Blacktail again and fired into the horde, blasting the three of them in the head.

The last one became still just as a fourth creature ambushed Ada and tackled her to her side, its talons digging deep into her body. Pain ravaged her body as she opened her mouth to scream. Hot blood gushed out of her mouth as a wail was born in her throat. She tried to beat the monster off of her, but the creature strengthened its grip on her, crushing her organs and bones to dust.

The pain was almost unbearable as the other beasts encircled them, and Ada felt a heavy cloak of realization drape her frame and she knew, in her heart, that she was going to die here.

The gargoyle that had grabbed her lifted her into the air and tossed her towards the table. She landed with a thud and scraped across the floor until she landed in front of none other than King Arthas.

The other Death Knights, and even Wesker himself began to encircle her, forming a tight group that provided no promise of escape or even a chance to breathe.

Blood slid out of her lips and onto her chin and neck as she looked up at Arthas. Her eyes were glossy and everything looked as though someone had sprayed Vaseline into her eyes and rubbed it in.

Arthas kept his menacing grin on his face and spoke slowly and methodically, "I must say… I am extremely sad at this turn of events. Here I was, praising your efforts and allowing you to know of my plans for this world."

A sigh issued from his lips, "But now you've gone and tried to double-cross me. ME! You dare attempt to flee from the very man who is your savior? You dare abandon the organization that controls you, Lady Wong?"

Arthas' arm shot out and grabbed Ada's hair. She yelped in pain as he roughly lifted her head and their eyes met. Arthas' tone was as cold as steel, "I ought to have my Death Knights ravage you right now and then send you to the next life!"

The very idea of being raped terrified the young woman, and she struggled even harder to flee from Arthas, who held her fast. A faint smile crossed his lips again, and he spoke in little more than a whisper, "But, I am an honorable and just man. I have been known to be forgiving, and forgiving I shall be unto you. For you risked your life for me, and I do not forget so easily."

Hot tears streamed down Ada's cheeks as she felt herself grow numb. It didn't matter if Arthas was going to spare her. She was doomed anyway.

Arthas looked down at Ada's injuries, and smirked again, "I can aid you with those."

Without another word, Arthas rose up to his full height and tightened his grip on her head. She winced and yelped as he took control of her head, and closed her eyes. A silent prayer past her lip, and she readied for the sword to fall on her.

A strange pulsating sensation overtook her body, and her head tilted back with the bizarre feeling. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head violently as a tornado of energy wrapped around her and seemed to suck her away from the world around her.


	3. Extraction

Extraction

**Author's Note****: **Hi all! It's been a pretty long time since I have posted anything to this, and I am truly sorry to all of you who have been waiting with baited breath for the latest installment of _Reign of the Blightbringer._ Well, here it is for you, my friends. I hope you all enjoy this and look forward to the next installment in a week or two. And I mean it )

**Author's Disclaimer****: **_**WarCraft**_ and _**Resident Evil**_ are copied trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment and Capcom respectively. I do not own either. Never have. Never will.

Leon Scott Kennedy walked carefully down the winding leaf covered path with his Blacktail firmly in hand. The crowd of trees stood tall and proud along the path, a silent audience to the procession as they made their way out of the pit that was this rural part of Europe.

Ashley Graham arched her head up and scanned her surroundings with wide russet eyes, every muscle in her body tensed up with fright and anticipation, as if some surviving villagers or cultists were about to pounce out of the trees and drag her away before her bodyguard could save her.

"How much further, Leon?" Ashley asked impatiently as she sprinted to catch up with him.

Leon grimaced softy and scanned the path and trees around them for a moment before replying. "I don't know. Maybe a few more miles before we get to the actual village."

"I hope not." Ashley complained. A sharp pain in her heel made her stop short and pause long enough to remove a great pebble from her brown boot. She wondered for a moment how stones that were big enough to fit in her hand managed to land into her boot while she was still wearing it without being aware of it.

"We can't stop yet." Leon said softly as he crouched low and replaced his Blacktail with the bolt-action rifle strapped onto his back. He rested his cheek on the butt and scanned the horizon for a moment more before signaling to advance. "Just think, in a little while, we'll be on our way home."

"I can't wait." Ashley said with a sigh of relief. "Hey Leon…" She began softly.

"Yeah?" Leon replied as he hopped over a log and helped the President's daughter over the log.

Ashley looked at her bodyguard and savior. She smiled so warmly that even the morning chill seemed to melt away and become a summer breeze. "Thank you."

Leon felt his heart melt and his arms wrapped tightly around his friend. "Anytime, Ashley." After a brief embrace, he slid his arms off of Ashley and said, "Now… let's go home."

The pair traveled carefully through the trees and foliage until they came across the familiar marshlands and winding mountain paths that Leon had traversed only earlier. The bloated corpses of dead Ganados floated in the water like flotsam as the two made their way across and finally into the great pen where Leon did battle with his first Gigante. The giant still laid where it fell, a silent testimony and monument of flesh to Leon's prowess, and a memorial for the four-legged companion who had come to save him.

Ashley's nose wrinkled as the stench of rotting meat invaded her nostrils. Flies were already making what looked like communities on the beast's flesh as her hands shot to her nose to cover her face. "Gross! Let's go, Leon!"

Leon raised a hand and silently walked over to the fallen beast. His nose begged for him to leave as well, yet he could not obey for the moment. He knelt down low on one knee and began speaking to no one at all. "Hey… I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me. You saved my life here, and I'm really grateful for it."

Ashley looked at Leon with an expression of confusion as her bodyguard talked to what seemed like the giant corpse.

Leon continued, "So anyway… thanks for being here. I wish I knew what happened to you, though. I really do."

Suddenly, as though to answer his request, a loud bark pierced the sky. Leon and Ashley's heads snapped in the direction of the bark as another one shot through the air, followed by the slender form of a white wolf dog.

At first, Leon and Ashley froze, thinking that it was another infected dog. However, the dog simply looked at them with wide brown eyes and let out another friendly bark as it approached Leon. The Secret Agent watched as the dog limped towards him and found himself laughing as he realized this was the one he was offering his thanks to.

"Hey!" He laughed as he knelt down again and began petting the dog, who responded by licking him. Leon laughed more as he felt the dog's wet and hot tongue bathe him.

Ashley found herself giggling as she watched Leon and the dog bonding. She looked over at the crimson streaks on the dog's leg and bent down to see if it was hurt. To her shock, there wasn't a scratch on the dog. The hair on the leg looked as though it was torn off by teeth, yet the pink flesh beneath was unscathed.

Leon chuckled and looked around the dog to determine the sex. His hands found nipples and he whispered, "Hey girl. You want a home?"

The dog yelped and licked his face again in response, causing Leon to chuckle again as he stood up and held his hand out to the dog. The dog licked his palm gratefully as Ashley stood up and said, "She's all right. But do you think it's a good idea to take her home?"

"Better than her staying her." Leon replied as the dog circled the Gigante's corpse on last time and sat on her hindquarters in front of Leon and Ashley. "Besides, it's a miracle that she lasted as long as she has."

Ashley found herself nodding softly as Leon whistled to the dog and began walking again. The dog barked in response and found her spot right next to Leon, as though she was always his loyal companion. Ashley found herself smiling softly at the scene and tagged along.

Christopher Redfield stood in the middle of Pueblo, surrounded by the unburied and rotting dead that Leon had left in his wake. His hands tightly gripped the handle and barrel of his LR – 300, which was equipped with an underbelly grenade launcher, as he rotated his shoulders. His entire torso and shoulders were protected by the new Dragon Skin armor that had been approved by the Special Forces divisions of the Military, but had yet to see actual combat. His nose wrinkled from the stench of the corpses and his eyes watered slightly. After all of the combat and strange things he had seen, he should have been used to death. But even this scene with human beings having bizarre tentacle masses where their heads should have been was too weird even for him.

Chris rotated his shoulders again and listened intently to the static on his earpiece. He had made contact with Leon an hour ago, and was now waiting impatiently for any sign of his young friend.

A sigh of relief had escaped his lips when he remembered that at least he wasn't the one who was sent on this mission, yet he regretted having such thoughts about his best friend's fortune. After all, it wasn't as though he just had an easy time too. He recalled all too well the mission he just returned from with Jill, and he had rather not dwelled on that either. All that matter was that Leon was safe, he had the President's daughter – ALIVE – and that they were going home.

Suddenly, Leon's voice crackled into his ear. "Chris?"

Chris snapped a hand to the piece and said, "Yeah I'm here."

"We're coming out through the house on the north end of town with the strange insignia on it." Leon said. "Do not engage."

"Confirmed." Chris said as he turned to the appropriate door.

The lock screamed suddenly and died just as quickly as it was undone. It was followed by the low creaking and moan of metal on wood and dust as Leon opened the door and stepped out with Ashley Graham and a white dog right behind him.

Chris found himself smiling softly and laughing as his eyes met Leon, whose expression of relief and joy must have mirrored his own. For the moment, they were not trapped in the middle of a body-covered street with a valuable target in hand. They were Chris and Leon, almost as though they were meeting for drinks at Bub's on the corner of D Street and 4th Street. The two agents and comrades walked over and embraced each other tightly as they laughed.

"Leon you son of a bitch!" Chris chuckled as they slid out of their embrace. "Nice to see you're still alive."

"Yeah." Leon said and turned to Ashley, "This is Ashley Graham."

Chris nodded to the President's daughter and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Graham."

"Ashley accepted the hand and said, "You too, Mr. Redfield."

"Call me Chris." The oldest Redfield said as he turned his eyes to Leon.

The younger agent was a mess. His clothes were covered in what looked like an inch of grime and dirt, and he could have sworn that the shirt was torn up somewhere.

Yet despite what he went through, Leon's face still looked so clean and pristine. He probably didn't have time to put on deodorant, but he must have smelled just like a rose.

However… something was missing.

Chris smirked and nudged at Leon, "Forget something?"

"Huh?" Leon frowned and looked down. He seemed to have all of his equipment and weapons. All of his gear was present.

Except…

"Aaaw shit!" He swore as he looked around frantically. His jacket! How could he have been that stupid?!

Chris laughed and said, "Leon… I would love to see Claire's face if you lost that, but…" He pointed over to a fence post, where a familiar leather jacket swung lazily.

Leon laughed as he went over and picked up the jacket. He examined it and frowned when he saw a sizeable bullet hole in the back. "Where did you find it?"

"On one of the bodies." Chris said as he watched Leon slide back into the jacket. "I don't know how you lost it, but you gotta take better care of your shit. Or at least pick it up when you find it."

Leon frowned as he stretched and replied, "I didn't see anyone with it."

Chris nodded as Ashley looked up and down her bodyguard, taking in his style. "Nice jacket." She complimented honestly.

Leon nodded, "It was a good luck charm from a friend."

Chris was about to talk before he was interrupted by the dog's barking. He turned to the mutt and asked, "Who's this?"

Leon performed an about face and said, "That's… that's Allyson. She's my dog."

All sound seemed to get sucked out by a vacuum for a solid minute before Chris started chuckling, which became great peels of laughter.

Leon blushed as Chris nearly doubled over and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You're going to Hell."

"I know." Leon responded as Ashley looked at both men, totally perplexed.

"What's the big deal?" Ashley finally questioned Leon, who blushed red.

"Allyson's… the middle name of my friend, Claire." Leon explained. "The one who gave me this jacket."

Ashley found herself giggling and laughing at Leon's response. Leon turned even redder at the response.

Suddenly, the laughter was broken by the sound of wood being cracked and splintered. Leon and the others turned to the sound, and jumped when they heard a second thunder of wood on wood and shouts in Spanish.

Ashley cringed as Leon and Chris raised their weapons. "The bad guys?" Chris asked as he loaded a grenade.

Leon nodded, "Where's the extraction point?"

"The farmhouse down the road." Chris said and pointed as another roll of thunder came in, followed by more Spanish.

"Ashley." Leon said in a calm tone. It sounded as though everyone left in the village and cult was about to pour after them. "I want you to run, okay?"  
Ashley nodded softly and began to sprint toward the farmhouse. Her legs became jelly as she tried her best to flee from the approaching Spaniards, yet her will and want to live was greater than her fear, and carried her as Allyson followed.

Chris and Leon began to back away just as the gates flew open and scores of ragged villagers and cultists in purple robes came charging down the ramp at them. Chris let loose with his grenade launcher, killing a handful as Leon opened fire with his TMP. The pair began spraying mists of led into the crowd, causing fountains and mists of crimson to pour out of their victims as Ganados toppled and tripped up their comrades. The barrels of their weapons turned white as they sprinted and tried to provide cover and flee with their lives.

Leon could hear the chopping of helicopter blades as they slammed through the iron gate to the farmstead, and beheld a Black Hawk helicopter awaiting with Ashley and Allyson already inside. Chris loaded and fired another grenade down the narrow corridor and sent more Ganados and limbs flying as they backpedaled and charged at the Black Hawk, which was already beginning to take off.

The Ganados poured into the farm just as the Black Hawk was out of their reach, and many tried to leap or pounce for it. Leon looked down warily as the Spaniards yelled and cried out. Their crimson eyes stared at him with anger, and… what looked like… fear?... as the chopped made its ascent over the trees and flew away to safety.

The Ganados looked up and wailed in anger and horror as their hope for escape flew off into the horizon. One of them swore and exclaimed, "We have to flee!"

"No!" one cultist proclaimed, "We stand here!"

"What?!" aonother villager wailed, "Against them?! We're dead!"

"No!" another cultist defended, "We must do what we can to survive."

"Which is-" a third villager began, but was cut off by a new shape in the sky. A great black shape of a winged beast appeared and released an icy roar as it came into view. The villagers yelled in terror as they realized it was the skeleton of a dragon covered in ice and stretched tendons.

"Frost Wyrm!" One villager exclaimed in horror as more shapes appeared in the sky. Gargoyles and the Frost Wyrm descended on them screeching and roaring as the fangs and claws of the Gargoyles sliced into the crowd and the Frost Wyrm's breath froze and shattered rows of survivors.

Hundreds of Ganados fled for their lives into the forests and down the path, only to be greeted by swarms of rotting corpses, screaming in inhuman tongues and hungry for flesh. Ghouls.

From above the watch tower of Pueblo, Arthas Menethil watched the horrific violence unfold, and smiled softly as a woman in a black cloak appeared next to him. He turned to the woman and said, "Do you understand now, Ms. Wong?"

Ada Wong lowered the cowl of her cloak, revealing her face. Her skin was pale, and her eyes seemed to blaze with flashes of green. "Yes… my King."

Arthas nodded as they beheld the horrific scene of villagers and survivors were ripped to shreds. "Now… tell me about Leon Kennedy."


	4. Homecoming

Homecoming

**Author's Disclaimer****: **_**WarCraft **_and _**Resident Evil **_are the property of Blizzard Entertainment and Capcom respectively.

Derek Graham may have been elected the President of the United States, leader of the most powerful and influential nation in the world, yet at this moment, the squat and grizzled man was a worried father filled with anticipation about the state of his only child. Despite all of his newly gained power and respect, deep inside the man was nothing more than a father.

He stared intently into the bright, crackling flames of the fire as he let all of the events over the last few months wash over him. He recalled the euphoria he felt when he received his nomination after a harrowing inner-party race and the sheer joy that had consumed him like a fire when he won the election, his greatest achievement.

No. His second greatest achievement. His first, and one that could never be compared, was the little girl who went missing all those months ago.

He had just delivered his Inauguration Speech the week before when he heard about Ashley. And now, two months after she had vanished, she was just outside that door, waiting to be in his arms again. The Spanish government was kind enough to allow him to meet her here in the United States Embassy, so that he could be reunited with her sooner. His excuse for the trip to Spain was to help reaffirm relations with this nation, and only a few people even within his cabinet knew the truth. His mighty, solid frame shook at the thought and his steely grey eyes quivered as he fought back tears.

The door creaked open and Chris Redfield, dressed in a fresh black suit, said, "Mr. President, they're here."

President Graham stood as straight as he could and regained his composure. He sniffed sharply to put himself back together and turned to face him. "Send them in."  
Chris nodded and opened the door more before the meek, slender shape of Ashley Graham emerged through the opening.

The two Grahams locked eyes for the first time in three months, and after what seemed like an eternity, Ashley, finally found the strength to unfreeze and sprint into her father's waiting arms. President Graham wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her cheek fiercely as they released heavy sobs.

"Daddy!" Ashley whispered into his ears as she kissed his cheek just as fiercely. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too." President Graham whispered as he looked up and saw a new figure emerge. He recognized the young, tall blonde man in a black suit. "Leon…"

Leon Kennedy walked into the room and stared at the heartwarming scene as President Graham stared back at him.

"Thank you…" President Graham whispered to Leon. At last, Ashley and her father slid out of each other's arms and Derek Graham offered Leon a seat.

Leon accepted the offer and sat in one of the plush leather seats. President Graham sat in the chair opposite of Leon and crossed his legs with authority. He had read the report that the agent had given him, and struggled with his two most powerful emotions. As a father, this man had saved his only child and the reason he existed. However, as the President of the United States, the man before him had allowed a terrible plague to get into the hands of the most vile corporation to ever exist.

Leon and Chris watched the President with unease and discomfort. Leon found himself scratching the part of his chest where the remnants of the Plaga that was inside of him were removed. The scar still itched, and he wondered how his body would adjust to this new trophy from his latest confrontation.

President Derek Graham inhaled deeply and began, "Mr. Kennedy. When I gave you this position, I did so because I was informed that you were the best in the field. Someone who isn't only one of the best fighters we have to offer, but a man who knows the value of family and protecting others. No matter the cost."

Leon nodded as a great cold stone formed in his throat and toppled into his stomach. He knew exactly where this was going, and he was ready to take it.

"Now…" President Graham continued, "I couldn't be happier that you have brought my beloved daughter home to me. In fact, I feel I owe you my life. Yet… we cannot ignore the cost that you have paid."

"Mr. President –" Chris began to speak in defense of his friend, but Leon raised his hand to silence him. Chris's eyes darted to his comrade as if to ask him what he was doing.

"Mr. President." Leon began in a calm, even tone. "I understand what repercussions are coming from my actions."

"You cannot know how serious these repercussions are!" President Graham shot back. "You have willingly given an agent of the Umbrella Corporation a sample of a creature, which according to you, is capable of infecting vast populations in a short space of time. To make matters worse, it can be communed through liquids, physical contact, or in the form of spores, correct?"

Leon nodded softly. He had been careful to collect all of Luis Sera's notes and other files on Las Plagas and included them in his report.

"Daddy…" Ashley spoke out meekly, which caused every head in the room to turn to her, "Leon did what he could to save both me and everyone else. That cult was planning to use the parasite… and me… to infect you and everyone else. They were going to use me to help take over the country. And then the world…"

Derek Graham's eyes softened as his daughter's head sunk to her chest and she spoke softly, "He did what he could to save the world from that thing. And if he didn't give it up, that woman might have killed him. And then I'd still be on that island when it exploded."

A tear fell across Derek's cheek and caressed his neck at her words. He looked back at Leon, who seemed stunned that the President's daughter was defending him so well.

The President of the United States composed himself and said, "Leon… Mr. Kennedy… for the actions you have taken to ensure the safety of my daughter and the Republic, for the time being, you have my thanks."

Leon nodded and responded in a voice so soft it might have been cut from satin, "Thank you, Mr. President."

"What are we going to do about Umbrella?" Chris voiced the one thought on everyone's mind now.

President Derek Graham looked at the two agents, his mind swimming with thoughts and ideas as he looked at them. He knew that both of them were experts on Umbrella, and what he needed now were men like them.

"That's what we're going to discuss now." He began.

Three hours later

Agent Leon Scott Kennedy had just finished packing the last of his bags when the sun began to shine from his balcony. He stepped outside for a moment and looked out at the Madrid skyline. A smile crossed his face as he saw the city sprout to life as people walked around the winding streets, pedaling goods and shouting about the latest news.

The ringing of the phone broke him from the beginnings of his trance, and he turned back into the room to answer it.

"Hello?" He answered as he sat on the bed with the receiver on his ear.

"Hey, you." A sweet, soft and familiar voice responded, bringing a smile to Leon's face.

"Hey Claire!" He said in a voice saturated with relief and happiness. It had been too long since he had heard his friend's voice. Far too long.

"So how's the coat I got you?" She asked with a hint of humor and suspicion that made Leon realize that he was not her first call to Spain.

Leon smirked and said, "My coat is fine, thank you."

"No duct tape covering any mysterious bullet wounds?" Claire inquired playfully.

Leon laughed, "No but I have a roll here for your mouth."

Claire giggled and sniffled, "It's good to see you're still alive."

"Yeah… good to see you still living too." Leon returned the wish and looked around the room. "So what's up?"

Over the next hour, Claire brought Leon up to speed on all of the events happening back home. Everything from the results of the Mets Spring Training (To which Leon owed Claire thirty bucks) and who was sleeping with who on a Korean drama they liked, to Jill and Chris's daughter, Caitlin, who had just taken her first steps while her "Uncle Leon" was away. In between the gossip and chatter, Leon told Claire everything that he could about the events in Spain. He confided in her how he was going to be helping to get the old team back together, and how he was going to be in charge of a new special Umbrella task force agency and the direct liaison to the President of the United States. This meant that, as of now, he was officially off of his duties as bodyguard and protector of the President's family. Now he was the bodyguard of the President's country.

Claire sighed softly as he told her the news. He could imagine his friend walking around her apartment casually in her favorite jeans and a black shirt, her bare feet scraping the hardwood floor of her apartment as she went into the kitchen and looked around in vain for something to eat amongst her milk, mayonnaise and stale Chinese food containers. Leon always made a point to bring a bag of groceries to her apartment whenever he visited, which was nearly on a weekly basis before he was sent to the Academy and then sent on his mission. He wondered sometimes how she managed to sustain herself on milk and mayonnaise products.

"So… she was there?" Leon caught a hint of what sounded like resign and fatigue in her voice. He nodded as she asked, "Are you okay?"

It took Leon much longer to respond to her inquiry. Was he really okay after this? After meeting her again and dealing with her, what was he thinking?

"Yeah." He reassured. "I'm going to be fine."

Claire nodded in his mind and she asked, "I'll see you when you get home?"

Leon nodded, "Save a pint of Guinness for me?"  
"I'll save ya three!" She chimed and her tone changed as she said, "Have a safe trip."

"Thanks." Leon said softly, "See you soon."

Two hours after the call, Leon was sitting in a plush seat on Air Force One with Chris sitting across from him.

"So, what's up?" Chris asked Leon, who was staring out over the carpet of clouds.

Leon turned to his friend and said, "Nothing. Just… thinking."

"Well," Chris began. "Who should we get for the team?"

"Bruce and Tom are out." Leon said, "They're working with the Secret Service now."

"And Billy's a drill sergeant for the Marines and Rebecca's getting her doctorate." Chris added with a sigh. "Everyone's already doing things."

"Carlos probably isn't." Leon threw in. "And maybe we could get Billy to transfer."

"What about…" Chris started to suggest as he looked out of the window, and frowned at the sight he beheld, "What the fuck?"

Leon looked outside and froze with fear as he saw an enormous black shape come flying towards them. If it hadn't been for the vast flapping wings, he might have mistaken it for another plane.

A great chill shot out of the base of his spine and shards of ice formed all along his spine and back as he saw the massive flying skeleton coming towards them. The plane shook violently as the F-22 Raptor jets charged with the defense of Air Force One flew overhead and under the belly towards the beast, who reared its head back and shot shards of ice that frosted over the first plane and ripped it to pieces. The other planes opened fire and tore the skeleton to pieces with waves of searing lead.

"What is that thing?!" Chris swore as another skeletal dragon appeared, flanked by swarms of smaller winged beasts that surrounded and ripped the armored plates and wings into scrap. One plane tried desperately to flee, only to have one of the flying monsters fly into the engine.

Leon watched in horror as the plane's engine erupted in a fireball. Chris cursed again as the Raptor veered wildly on its one engine as it barreled towards Air Force One.

Leon's eyes widened as the world came to a standstill. His life, and the lives of all those he loved began to flash violently through his eyes as the two planes collided in a tremendous fireball.


	5. Uneasy Rendezvous

Uneasy Rendezvous 

**Author's Disclaimer****: **As much as I love _**WarCraft**_ and _**Resident Evil**_ with such a burning passion (Little creepy, eh?), I do not own the rights to either. Those belong solely to Blizzard Entertainment (Who sadly belong to Activision now : ) and Capcom.

**Author's Note****: **I would like to extend a thank you to the people who have continued to read this story as it progresses, especially those who have taken the time to leave me their thoughts on it and leave me with their impressions. I'd like to say that I'm writing this just for myself and the gratification and practice that I obtain by writing fan fiction, but I am also writing this for those who wish to read it. Thank you, and Blessed Be 3

Leon's eyes opened wide and his body shot up as the wave of fire and debris flew towards him, only to be greeted now with an inky black abyss and the chill of the night air.

Leon turned around and gazed into the darkness, cold sweat clinging to his cheeks and forehead like morning dew as his azure eyes adjusted enough that he could see the distinct outlines of his chair, desk, and the familiar items that rested on its surface.

A brief sigh and chuckle escaped his dry lips as he fell back onto the bed and reached for his sheets. To his surprise, his blanket and sheets were lying on the ground in a heap.

_Must have kicked them off during my nightmare,_ Leon reasoned as he climbed out of bed and picked up the sheets. As he tossed them back onto the mattress and began the process of making his bed, vague flashes of the dream pulsed before him in the briefest flashes. He always hated when his dreams came back to haunt his waking moments, especially when they were specters of nightmares. He often found it unfair that the dreams he remembered so clearly were of his own death or the deaths of those he knew and loved, yet if it was that dream where he walks in on a certain someone wearing nothing but stilettos and a smile, it would fade away just as he would awaken.

Sadly, uneasy dreams and nightmares were more common to him now than ever before. Ever since that mission four years ago, and the incident that happened the year after that, Leon's dreams seemed to become more and more violent and disturbing.

He wished that he could tell Claire about them, but he knew immediately how she would react, and what she would say:

"_Leon… maybe it's the stress of the job…"_ or maybe even, _"It sounds like you're getting a little overworked…"_, something to that effect. And no matter what, she would end it with, _"Leon… I think you need to take some time off. Maybe a lot of time off."_

Leon shook his head as he finished making his bed. There wasn't any way in hell that he would be taking any time off, especially now. He had come so close, and yet his failure, the fact that he handed the parasite to Ada Wong, plagued him with the wrath and fury of a demon. He knew it wouldn't leave him merely because he was getting stressed, and it would only increase its onslaught if he took any time off.

No. He vowed that he would scrub the T-Virus _**AND **_Las Plagas off the face of the earth, and he intended to do so. Even if it killed him.

As Leon looked at his finished bed, he realized that the fatigue and need to sleep had abandoned him completely. A sigh that hinted at the irony escaped his lips as he pulled up the chair and turned his nightstand light on.

The walls of Leon's room were festooned with images, maps, and pictures. Streaks of bloody ink surrounded locations of known T-Virus and parasite outbreaks, complete with miniature flash cards covered with statistics stapled next to them on the maps, while photos of former Umbrella employees and executives hung over their last known locations, with photos of the agents in charge of watching and researching them stapled adjacent to their prey.

Three quarters of Leon's walls were a shrine to the hunting of Umbrella operatives, researchers, and executives. Yet Leon's favorite wall was the fourth, covered with an array of photos of Claire, Chris, Jill, Barry, Rebecca, Billy, and himself at various activities. He took a moment to look at the wall of smiling faces that stared at him, inquiring if he remembered those days when they would take that necessary break from hunting evil corporations and zombies, and recalled every event.

As he sat and reminisced with the photos of the survivors at barbeques and amusement parks, he heard the creaking of a door and the shuffling of weary feet on the carpet in the hallway.

He knew immediately that Claire was up, probably for the same reason he was, and now partaking in her usual ritual of finding something to eat, sitting quietly on the patio whilst eating a sandwich, and then going to bed.

Leon and Claire had decided to move in together after the events in that airport, and thankfully had enough funds between them to buy a small yet nice house in the middle of Washington, D.C., where they had now been living in for close to two years now. She was still doing her part for that aide group she was working with, alongside maintaining her bike shop.

Leon wondered for a moment if he should either talk to his friend or leave her alone, for the grand total of one second. Without another though, Leon rose from his chair and walked out of his room.

Leon's room was on the far end of the house, right next to the kitchen. It was a duplex, so they were occupying the ground floor. Claire's room was at the other end of the hallway, just before the living room, with the bathroom serving as the buffer zone.

Predictably, Claire was in the process of making herself a sandwich when Leon stepped into the kitchen. Lettuce, wheat bread, mayonnaise, and the containers of American cheese, ham, turkey and pickles lay scattered along the counter as Claire was reaching into an open bag of sour cream and onion potato chips.

"Hey, Claire." Leon said softly, catching the young woman off guard.

Claire turned with a start, spilling a handful of chips on the floor in the process. Her red-tinted hair was out of its usual ponytail and draped across her beautiful, pale face, and her frame was covered in her usual pink flannel pajamas. Compared to Leon, who had gone to bed in his usual muscle shirt and basketball shorts, she looked more like someone who had just woken up.

A smirk formed on her lips as she bent down to pick up the chips. "Morning, Leon."

"Breakfast of champions?" Leon jested as he went over and picked out two slices of bread for himself. He may as well.

"I'll have you know that people in Mexico eat ham and cheese sandwiches for breakfast." Claire retorted as she gathered up the chips and tossed them into the trash bin before going to grab the broom and butler.

"Tis one of the reasons I'm glad I'm an American." Leon joked as he spread a liberal amount of mayonnaise on his bread.

"And yet here you are making a sandwich too?" Claire laughed as she swept up the crumbs and tossed them into the bin with their larger companions.

"Yes." Leon said and reached for the ham and cheese.

Claire giggled and put the broom and butler back in the corner. "So, what woke you up?"

"I had this wonderful dream where I was surrounded by thirty amazingly hot, topless blondes with D-size racks and just woke up from the excitement." Leon said in such a dead-pan tone that if he wasn't Leon, Claire would have thought he was being serious.

Fortunately, she spent far too much time with her friend, and just laughed at his description. "Yeah and Batman came into my room and showed me some bat-tricks in bed."

"You know he's sleeping with Robin, right?" Leon raised an eyebrow as he took a handful of chips.

"Well I didn't say it was good, did I?" Claire retorted as she grabbed the plate with her own sandwich and poured a second handful of chips onto the plate.

Leon wished he had strength or the awareness to laugh, but suddenly the energy was drawn out of him. The room quickly became much colder, and the house seemed so much darker than even the early morning abyss outside.

Claire sighed as her head sank to her chest. "Dream's getting worse?" Her tone suddenly became much quieter and sullen, something Leon wished he didn't hear.

"Yeah." He said softly as he began to put everything away. He could have lied to her, but he knew she would pick it up instantly.

"You know what I want to say, right?" She inquired, her arms now folded across her chest.

Leon nodded as he put the cold cuts and mayonnaise away. "Yep." He turned to face her as he closed the fridge and said, "And you know exactly how I'm going to reply?"

"Always do." Her tone became so quiet and quick that Leon knew she was beginning to get into that worrying phase of hers. The conversation had become so routine that they didn't even need to say the words, yet they were still spoken in the arenas of their minds.

The atmosphere became thick and heavy with the unspoken dialogue and the chill that suddenly entered the kitchen and became a spectator to the staring contest that was taking place.

Leon wondered to himself what sort of things kept Claire up so late at night. Obviously, she had seen her own number of horrors, terrors, and tragedies. She had witness someone who fell for her become a monster and try to destroy her, only to take his own life in the process. Was that one of the demons that possessed her and her moments in bed? Was that the only thing keeping her from having a pleasant rest?

Unlike Leon, Claire never discussed her dreams. Not to anyone. It was generally an unspoken, yet strictly enforced rule in the house that they do not discuss dreams. It was a legislature that was motioned and voted on the night a year ago when Leon found Claire in the kitchen in the middle of the night, sobbing and muttering someone's name into her hands. When Leon asked her if she was talking about Steve, she screamed and tossed a pot at him. For then on, Leon was under the impression that the one thing that kept her up was Steve Burnside.

What Leon failed to realize though, was the Claire wasn't crying over Steve. In fact, she rarely thought about him with the exception of December, in remembrance of him. There was someone else that she was crying over. Someone she didn't want knowing, for fear that the person she feared for would vanish too.

After what seemed like an eternity, Claire finally said, "You haven't forgotten about tomorrow, right?"

Leon smiled and walked over to her. "A pack of Hunters couldn't keep me away."

"Even with Licker reinforcements?" Claire smiled softly as he walked closer to her. For some reason, she felt faint as she looked into his sleepy blue eyes. She knew exactly why she felt that way, and she loved that sensation. If she was going to feel numb and faint, Claire couldn't think of anyone better to feel that way over than Leon Scott Kennedy.

Leon laughed and nodded, "A whole battalion."

Claire smiled slyly at Leon and whispered, "Might have to hold you to that."

Leon chuckled, which made Claire giggle. The heavy silence and the unease that accompanied it had vanished like fog in the sun, and the two friends embraced each other tightly.

Claire closed her eyes and pressed her nose against Leon's chest. Even though he had just woken up, he still smelled like autumn and pines, as if he had just showered.

Leon too noticed how Claire seemed to smell like lilacs and lavender, two of his favorite scents. It reminded him of when his home would be filled with those smells during the spring when he was a child.

The two friends held each other close for a little while longer before they finally slipped out of each other's grip. Claire smiled softly and asked, "Care to join me outside?"

Leon grinned and picked up his own plate, "Try and stop me."

The pair laughed as they walked out onto the patio, which was more than an outcropping of brick and stone with enough room for a couple of chairs. The rest of the night, they looked up at the stars and talked about everything, except for the dreams.

As the two friends watched the stars and gazed at each other, a shadowy form billowed out of the darkness of the kitchen and looked at them with wide, blank amethyst eyes. The smoke around the creature's eyes formed into an elongated skull surrounded by a body of black fog that seemed to melt and billow around a skeletal frame. As it glided across the kitchen and watched them from the window by the sink, crystals of frost spread like weeds across the tiles and all over the metal sink.

The creature watched them, confident that they would not be able to see him. After all, it was his nature to be unseen, even when he took on a physical form. No one had ever seen him before, in all of the years that he had followed Leon around and watched him in the name of the Lich King.

And now the Lich King's plan was coming close to being completed. He knew not what this man's role was in the grand scheme of the Lich King, but if it was truly a mighty plan, the little Shade was happy to be a part of it.


	6. Rainy Birthdays and Recaps

Rainy Birthdays and Recaps

**Author's Disclaimer****: **I do not, never have, nor shall I ever own the rights to _WarCraft_ and _Resident Evil_. If you want the rights, ask Blizzard and Capcom if they're willing to give them up. Go ahead. I dare ya.

Claire Redfield slowly walked down the long, cold, dimly lit corridor. A thin layer of blue mist covered the frozen stone floor that parted as Claire made her way down the path, her eyes shifting between the massive cast iron statues of knights in full plate and chain mail armor. As she reached the end of the corridor, she saw a figure sitting along in a chair, his head slumped over, covered by his blonde hair that glistened with crystals of frost.

She squinted as she slowly came over, her heartbeat quickening as her pulse began to race. She's been in this scene before, and seen this man in a thousand nightmares since.

_Steve…_

Her mind echoed that distant memory as she came closer to the figure, strapped down with thick leather bands and chains of iron. She looked across his chest to see the axe that pinned him to the wall, yet in its place was a long thick sword. The silver blade glistened and shined in the pale light, emphasizing the black markings etched along the cutting and guard sides of the sword. As the metal reached the hilt, the cutting side became serrated as curved spikes formed along the blunt side of the instrument. The hilt was midnight black, with golden leaves and vines overlaying it. In the very center was a small skull with wicked teeth. Blue and green mist billowed from the empty sockets, giving off a chill that pierced Claire like an arrow.

No. This couldn't be Steve, she thought as she looked at the slump figure. It was another soul from her nightmares and dreams, one who was fast replacing her previous demon.

The figure raised his head and his eyes locked with Claire, freezing her with his empty, pleading gaze. His eyes pulsed and gleamed like emeralds as the prisoner's dry lips parted, "Claire…"

"Leon!" Claire found the strength to respond. She looked down at his chest and saw crimson lines gliding down his chest and abdomen. The sword buried itself deep into Leon's chest, making the man yell in pain.

"Let me help you!" Claire cried out as she extended a hand.

"No!" Leon spat in a loud, commanding voice. His lips quivered with fear and worry as his eyes began to shine brighter. "Run!"

"No!" She shook her head in fear as she watched him fidget and struggle. There was no way that she would leave him here to die. They were going to escape.

Suddenly, chains and plates of steel shot out from the walls and slithered over to Leon, covering his body. The prisoner yelled in terror and struggled violently as the plates and chains slid across his frame. "Run! Now!"

Claire shook her head in fear. What was happening? What was going on?

Leon yelled and screamed as the metal surrounded him and began to form a wicked, black armor of spikes and golden runes around his body. Spindles of violet and golden fabric grew from the plates and formed together to create a flowing cape.

Claire watched on in horror as Leon's final screams pierced the air with an echo that went on for eternity. When he was finally covered completely in armor, his face was hidden away forever behind a mask of gold, formed into a skull with glowing green eyes.

Claire gasped and felt her feet give out as Leon let out an inhuman roar that shook the armors apart and reached for the sword across his body. With one great heave, he tore the sword from the wall and clasped it in both hands tightly. The great emerald eyes glowered at Claire as he advanced slowly over, as though he relished every moment and absorbed the ecstasy of his easy hunt.

Claire tried desperately to get up, yet her legs seemed to lose all desire to move. Her bones froze in terror as she watched him advance with his slow death march. She tried to call to him, to reason with him and plead with him to regain his senses, but a part of her soul knew deep down, that Leon Scott Kennedy was dead.

The skeletal armor that encased Leon came to a halt, casting a great shadow and wave of ice that covered everything in the room. Tears began to well in Claire's eyes as she watched his hands raise the sword over his head, and for one final moment, she raised her arms in a meek attempt to defend herself as his sword came down and a final wail of terror and Leon's name escaped her lips.

Claire's eyes shot open as the sword came down and a gasp of fright escaped her lips. Her perfectly blue eyes scanned the room frantically as she sat up and her hands covered her chest, trying desperately to regain a grip on reality. It took a moment for Claire to remember that she was in her room, covered in her favorite sheets and surrounded by her familiar posters and pictures of her friends and herself.

A heavy sigh escaped Claire's lips as she buried her face in her hands. That same damn dream again, the same one she had last night and the last three nights. She fell back against her pillow and looked up absently at the ceiling, trying desperately to find the meaning of her visions. She remembered reading a book about how dreams have some sort of meaning and can be interpreted to mean everything from future fortunes to a long-forgotten past and regret. But what did it mean when your best friend was strapped to a chair, turned into a giant in armor, and tried to bring a sword down on you?

The thoughts and worries ran through her mind over and over again as she tried to divine some kind of meaning. She played with the idea of telling Leon, but she knew that would be a big mistake. Claire knew that no matter what, Leon would take the dream to be another attempt of hers to get him off the job and… do what? Go on vacation? Retire? Leave the job to someone else? Open up a bar or something?

Deep down inside… that was what Claire wanted. She spent the last few years, and the years before that, watching Leon as he and the others fought to stop Umbrella at every turn they could. She recalled all too well the battles both in the courthouse and inside of Umbrella's facilities, dealing with psychos who thought they could rule the world with terror for profit. It wasn't as though either of them was ignorant of the dangers and horrors posed by Umbrella, but now Claire was afforded the rarest opportunity of everyone: she got to observe perhaps the most dedicated member from the team aside from Chris as he tried desperately to fix a mistake he thinks he made.

She couldn't help but notice how Leon was getting older. Not just older in terms of years, but in reflexes, speed, and strength. Even his ability to remember things was suffering, and his temperament was becoming older and more worn even faster now. It was to be expected when someone worked as hard and fiercely as Leon did. No one had unlimited stamina, and Leon, even though he didn't want to admit it, was coming close to his personal limit.

Yet would she ever tell that to Leon? Of course not! Would he even listen if she did? It wasn't as though she didn't care about his health – on the contrary, she was probably the one out of the pair who cared the most -, but she knew how he would feel about that. He made that vow all those years ago about how he would stop Umbrella and people like them, and she knew how he was on promises and vows.

Another sigh escaped her lips just before the aroma of bacon entered her nostrils. A smile formed across her lips and all of her worries seemed to fade away with the smell of processed pork products frying in a pan.

As she climbed out of bed, she heard the rolling booming of heavenly artillery, and swore as she realized it was about to rain. The pattering of liquid bullets on her window corrected her, that is was already raining. She turned her head and frowned when she saw rain spraying fiercely against the windowpane. She guessed the outdoor activities were cancelled.

Claire muttered and turned on her stereo as she started searching for her outfit. She sang along to "Bye Bye Beautiful" as she fit into her favorite jeans and t-shirt and tied her boot laces tightly.

When Claire walked out of the room, she was greeted with the sight of Leon whistling "Mad World" as he tended to the bacon.

A smile formed across her mouth again as Claire walked in and began singing, "All around me are familiar faces, worn-out places, worn-out faces. Bright and early for the daily races, going nowhere. Going nowhere."

She imagined Leon smirking as he said, "I'm up to the chorus now."

"There's a chorus?" She laughed as she walked over and kissed Leon on the cheek. "Morning."

"Morning, sleepy-head." He replied and began to plate the bacon. "Coffee's in the maker already."

Claire smirked, the dream just a distant memory to be revisited tonight, no doubt, and went over to the coffee maker they had gotten from Billy and Rebecca as a house-warming gift. "You know how to treat a girl right, huh?"

"Indeed I do." Leon said with an air of confidence as he reached for his familiar blue mug, already filled with the steaming beverage laced with two sugars and a little two percent and took a sip.

"Even on your birthday?" Claire joked as she poured the coffee into her favorite red mug. Just before she went to get her cream, she kissed Leon on the cheek again. "Happy birthday, by the way."

Leon smiled and blushed slightly, "I was hoping you would have forgotten."

"What, with all the planning Jill and I have been going through?" She slammed the fridge and feigned hurt as she went over and poured a liberal amount of coffee mate into her mug, "I didn't have to hire the strippers and import all that beer, ya know."

"And I know you didn't." Leon retorted and took his mug and the plate of bacon over to the kitchen table.

Claire walked over to the table and sat down next to Leon, "Well I said I wasn't obligated."

Leon laughed as he took a few strips and set them on his plate, which already had a fried egg in it.

Claire looked down at her egg-covered plate and deposited some bacon next to it. "You know, traditionally the birthday people wait for someone else to make them breakfast."

"You were sleeping." Leon replied as he poured syrup over the bacon and egg. "And I was hungry."

"As usual." Claire joked and started poking at the egg. She sighed as the room lit up with a spear of lighting. "I guess the outdoor stuff is cancelled."

"So no pony ride?" Leon frowned and mocked as he took a bite of his concoction.

Claire laughed, "Not unless you want to get struck by lightening."

Leon let out a playful moan of disappointment and continued to eat his breakfast in relative peace.

During the meal, Claire kept shooting looks at Leon when his eyes were too busy concentrating on his plate. It was as if some part of her remembered the dream all too well, and was hoping to ensure that Leon's eyes were their normal steely blue and not glowing like emeralds in a fire. She shook her own head at her suspicion and fear. Maybe she was the one who needed the vacation.

A great white wolf-dog came out of Leon's room and walked lazily over to her master, who smiled and scratched just behind her ears before offering her a piece of bacon.

"Morning to you too." Leon greeted Allyson as she licked her master's hand.

"Still sleeping with her, I see?" Claire said as she took her own strip and offered it to Allyson, who accepted it eagerly. The two of them remembered just how hard it was for Claire to win Allyson's trust at first, but now that time had gone past, the three were like family now.

Leon nodded, "Sorry, you know she's the only girl for me."

Claire laughed as Allyson licked her palms and gave her a hard rub along her head.

After the meal was done and the plate were cleared and cleaned, the trio made their way to the entrance, grabbed their jackets and headed out the front door to Claire's Camry. She clicked the unlocking button twice and stepped into the driver seat as Leon occupied shotgun, with Allyson riding in the back seat between them. Lightening jabbed the sky as they drove on down to the brick house that Jill and Chris called home. Of course, Chris was away in Africa on an assignment, so he would not be joining in the day's festivities, much to everyone's disappointment.

Claire reached the door first and pressed the glowing orange button. After a few minutes, Jill opened the door, wearing of all things, an apron. "Claire!" She exclaimed and wrapped her arms tightly around her sister in law, who eagerly accepted and returned the embrace in kind. Jill turned to Leon and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek and said, "Happy birthday."

"Thanks." Leon replied as Jill ushered them into the living room, where Rebecca, Billy, Barry and a little four-year-old were sitting on the couch and two armchairs that surrounded the coffee table.

Allyson barked as the others stood up and welcomed the newcomers, and walked over to the group. Rebecca, sadly, had developed a deep fear of dogs after the horrors of the mansion, and practically leaped out of her skin and sprinted out of the room had it not have been for Billy's arms wrapped around her. She knew enough to keep the yelp in her throat where it belonged, for fear of terrifying poor Caitlin.

Caitlin, the adorable four year old brunette with pale skin and hazel eyes, looked up from her seat on the floor and smiled widely as she saw Claire and Leon walk in and return everyone's greetings. "Auntie Claire!" She exclaimed and shot her arms out in front of her aunt.

"Sweet thing!" Claire returned the exclamation with the endearment she and Leon used on their niece and cuddled her tightly. "How are you?"  
"I'm good." Caitlin said and hugged her aunt just before screaming. "Hi Uncle Leon!"

"Hey there, sweetie!" Leon said and kissed her forehead. Ever since she was born, Caitlin had been the glue that held the Leon, Claire, Jill and Chris so firmly together, and gave them all a link and hope for the future. "You're getting big." Leon whispered to her as he took Caitlin from Claire and cuddled her close.

"Mommy tells me that all the time." Caitlin replied and wrapped her arms tightly around Leon's neck. "Happy birthday, Uncle Leon."

Leon chuckled and set her down slowly. He turned to Barry and shook the burly survivor's hand. "So how's it feel to be thirty one?" Barry chuckled.

"Probably the same as being forty eight." Leon retorted as he went on to shake Billy and Rebecca's hands, who both wished him happy birthday.

As the wind whipped violently and rain hammered the windows and walls, Leon and the others sat around the living room, talking and laughing and reminiscing about old times and their favorite memories of Leon. Naturally, they tried to keep it as kid-friendly as possible, since Caitlin was present. As the day wore on and the sky grew darker, Jill helped a weary Caitlin up the stairs to her bedroom. Leon waved to his surrogate niece and laid back on the couch as Barry went to the fridge and started passing out beers.

Barry retired back in 2004 when Umbrella was thought to be destroyed forever and moved to a town in New Jersey with his family. He wanted to be as far away as humanly possible from Washington and any news on Umbrella. To him, Umbrella was dead, and the only people he cared about were his family.

Billy had returned when Rebecca managed to clear his name, and was reinstated by the United States Marine Corps, now as a drill sergeant. As for Rebecca, she was serving as a field medic for the Marines, in the same base as Billy. They had gotten married about two years ago, and were as happy as could be.

Jill was still involved with the agencies that helped take down Umbrella, and was still handy with a gun and lock pick, but found herself devoting more of her time to being a mother to Caitlin.

With Caitlin in bed, they began to talk about shop. It was a subject they all dreaded with the deepest fear, yet they knew they had to discuss it.

"So what's new, Leon?" Jill asked as she sipped her beer.

Leon huffed and admitted, "Not too good, I think. We've been keeping tabs on most of Umbrella's former researchers, and we're still hunting for Spencer. If he's still alive."

"Oh he's still alive." Barry replied bitterly. "Bastard like that can't be dead with all of the stuff they were making with that company of his."

The others nodded morbidly. Claire added, "The group I work for is stepping up its efforts in case something like Raccoon City or that airport ever happens again." A grip of silence encased the room as she mentioned with a slight chill of horror in her voice, "Which I pray is unnecessary."

"Me too." Leon remarked thoughtfully as he sipped his beer. The cold liquid seemed to turn hot in his throat, and had the exact opposite effect than it was meant to have.

Billy scratched his chin and asked, "How's Chris's investigation?"

"It's going well, I think." Leon replied. "He's working with one of our South African agents, who seems to be pretty capable." He smirked as he looked down at his open can. "It's pretty hard to find new capable people."

"Maybe you should start training some." Barry offered and set his can down. "I'm pretty sure if you and Billy banged your heads together, and got some feedback from Jill, Claire and myself, we could form a new special team to take over this whole hunt."

Leon smiled politely. Barry always said this every time they were together. "I know. Maybe next year."

Barry frowned. "You've been saying that every time we get together, Leon."

Leon and the others noticed how Barry referred to Leon by his name now, as opposed to the old days when he would call Leon "Kid". He never meant the nickname as anything other than a sincere endearment, and because he saw in Leon the same man he was all those years ago.

"I know I have," Leon said. He sighed softly and lowered his head, "But I mean it this time."

"You say that every time too." Barry replied, stood up, and turned to walk out of the room into the kitchen.

Leon, Claire and the others watched with concern as Barry walked into the kitchen. Jill frowned as a cloak of silence and unease had covered them. "I'll go talk to him." Jill offered as she stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Barry stood aloof in the kitchen, staring blankly out of the window at the small garden Chris and Jill had managed to grow and cultivate. His former S.T.A.R.S partner walked up behind him and spoke in a voice so soft it may have been manufactured into velvet. "Barry?"

Barry turned to Jill and huffed, "Kid's stubborn as a mule."

Jill nodded and stood next to Barry, "I know that, Barry. Then again, that's what keeps him going."

"Stubbornness shouldn't keep anyone in the game." Barry said, "I remember when all that drove Leon was heart and will. That's all you need, and that's all that should keep you going. When you have to rely on stubbornness as your fuel," He paused and shook his head. He realized that his voice was getting loud, and he didn't want to wake Caitlin or let the others catch what he was saying. It took Barry a moment to get his voice down and finished, "That's when it's time to trade in."

A soft sigh escaped Jill's lips as she looked into Barry's eyes. She knew Barry and Leon had grown close as comrades. Barry practically took Leon under his wing and taught him everything he knew about firearms and maintenance. Practically made him a member of the NRA, for that matter. But more importantly, Barry saw Leon's fire and passion and helped guide him in the right direction, and taught him how to temper his love for justice into something, even if he was underground. When Leon's father died two years ago, Barry and Leon grew even closer, despite the fact they lived in two different states.

"What keeps Chris going too, for that matter?" Barry asked absently. "Or you, too?"

Jill shrugged, "Same thing as Leon. Stubbornness."

Barry huffed and shook his head as he muttered, "Two of you shoulda given it all up when you had your kid. And Leon too. Specially now that he has Claire with him."

Jill smirked and whispered, "They still don't know yet."

"Sheesh." Barry shook his head, "You'd think those two would've hooked up or something by now."

"We're not pushing anything." Jill remarked. It wasn't any big secret amongst the group that Claire and Leon seemed like they would be perfect together, and it was even less of a secret that they both crushed really hard for one another. The problem, was getting them to admit it to each other without forcing them. Or before it was too late.

"Do me a favor, huh?" Barry asked as he started walking out of the kitchen.

"What?" Jill asked, tipping her head.

Barry turned and smiled softly, "Get those two together before I do it."


	7. The Experiments

The Experiments

**Author's Disclaimer****: **I do not care HOW tired people are of me saying this, I'm going to say it anyway…

I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO _WARCRAFT _OR _RESIDENT EVIL_!! NEVER HAVE!! NEVER WILL!! SO THERE!!

… Love you guys :-P

Albert Wesker hated the cold of Northrend. He hated the incompetent acolytes he was forced to work with even more. These people were primitives who knew so little of true science and biology that it made a certifiable genius such as Wesker ashamed to be working under such conditions.

However, one could not say that they weren't eager to learn, and the sheer number of acolytes at his disposal certainly made searching for test subjects a simple task of pointing his finger at one. Even if the acolytes knew they were doomed to die or suffer horribly for being selected, none of them seemed to mind. After all, this was a death cult.

A new acolyte was strapped to the long wooden table in the frozen, ice-covered room that used to be a chamber in the ancient spider-kingdom of Azjol-Nerub, not that it mattered to Wesker, of course. He stood behind the console that had been brought over and magically conditioned to be impervious to the frosty conditions of Northrend. Personally, Wesker would have preferred to work back in his world, in a remote base of his choosing. However, Arthas had said that for the time being, his research was needed in this world, so that, is where he would stay.

For the moment, anyway.

Ada Wong came in dressed in her usual black cloak, her chain mail jingled slightly as she walked over to the test subject, with a syringe filled with a glowing violet liquid in her hands. Within the vial was the ultimate culmination of science, biology, and magic. A living, breathing sample of the G-Virus injected into a sample of Las Plagas and infused with the power of the Lich King's rune blade.

Wesker watched intently as Ada rolled up one of the acolyte's sleeves and slid the needle into his pale skin. The acolyte made no sound as the vial emptied into his veins and Ada pulled the needle out. The two watched the subject intently as acolytes recorded in glowing runes the progress of the chosen acolyte.

Almost immediately, the acolyte let out a low moan and closed his shimmering green eyes, which opened suddenly as he felt a great thump in his chest. A gasp escaped his lips as his chest thumped a second time. Fire began to slowly seep into his veins at the tips of his fingers and toes, and suddenly shot through his body with the force of a thousand bullets.

The acolyte screamed in pain at the feeling of a third, more powerful thump and desperately tried to break free of the straps holding him to the table. His eyes darted from his fellow acolytes to Ada and Wesker, as if he thought watching them would give him comfort and the strength to overcome the pain.

His eyes welled with blood and the acolyte coughed violently, staining his violet scarf a deep shade of wine red. Ada and Wesker sighed and watched as lines of red made themselves apparent on the man's skin and began weaving together like strands of cotton in a spinning wheel. The G-Virus had somehow allowed the replication process of Las Plagas to quicken, and coupled with the undead magic, the creature was dying, reviving, and evolving at a terrifying pace.

Too fast… Wesker sighed as long tendrils popped out of the acolyte's veins and spines began to form along his expanding, pale chest. The acolyte's robes ripped and fell off as the virus took over and began to mutate him even faster.

Wesker gave Ada a nod, a silent indication that the experiment was over. She nodded and produced a long, curved sword from her waist and rammed it deep into the brain of the acolyte, who let out an inhuman wail as the blade met brain matter and shook violently. Ada held her grip as the acolyte slowly began to stop his twitches, and finally, fell silent.

Wesker sighed again and removed his sunglasses. "So unfortunate."

"Yes." Ada smiled softly and pulled her blade out of the corpse's skull. She wrapped the end of her cloak around the blade and wiped the blood and bone off with a single swipe. "Perhaps you injected too much of the G-Virus into this sample."

"No, the amount was correct." Wesker defended and started looking through his notes, "The problem is the host. He's already influenced by the power of the Lich King, so more of that energy being pumped into his body must have caused the overload."

"Then we need test subjects without influence from the Lich King?" Ada suggested.

Wesker sneered, "Yes. Perhaps it would be best to start searching for any local volunteers from one of the southern continents."

Just then, the Lich King walked in like a juggernaut of doom, his footsteps echoing as though he was in a great audience hall. He sneered at the remains of the mutilated victim and growled at Wesker, "You promised me better results than this."

"Results take time." Wesker said simply, keeping his nose and eyes close to the notepad.

"Time we can ill afford." Arthas glowered, "The time for my plan draws near, and all I need now are but two components. The virus, and another."

Wesker fought back the urge to roll his eyes at Arthas's statement. This was nothing that he didn't say before, and frankly, Wesker was tiring of hearing it. "Perhaps the research in Africa is proving to be more successful."

"Perhaps." The Lich King assented. He glared at Wesker and moved dangerously close to the man. "I know what thoughts dwell within your mind."

Just as the words passed his lips, Wesker felt the Lich King's presence in his mind, his voice seething and hissing as he probed Wesker's most private recesses. At an early point, Wesker had learned not to resist Arthas's probes, for fear of suffering from a stroke or worse, death. Not that Wesker was alien to death, but service to the Lich King as a ghoul or worse was not what he expected.

For the moment, Wesker would serve and play as the obedient servant. "I shall go to the Africa instillation and see how the progress goes."

Arthas considered the proposal carefully. He knew what truly lied inside of Wesker's heart and mind, and what he really intended. Perhaps that was the reason Arthas had allowed him to live as long as he has, and provide the services that so many other researchers could have: he amused Arthas. "Very well. See to the operation and report once you have your findings."

"At once, my King." Wesker bowed and departed the company, leaving Arthas and Ada standing in the room with the acolytes.

Arthas smiled coldly at Ada, who returned the grin in kind. "Leave us." He commanded the acolytes, who gratefully scurried out like rats and sealed the door tightly behind them.

The two smiled coldly and advanced on one another, meeting in an embrace and passionate kiss. A moan escaped Ada's lips as she felt his icy breath and skin on hers and plunged her tongue into his mouth, earning her the chance to hear him moan in response.

Since her coming, the two had become lovers, if only because that is the closest thing to what they truly were. It had been so long since either of them had felt the touch and fulfilled the urges of their primal instincts, and for the moment, they chose to amuse each other.

Arthas was the first to break the kiss, "While Wesker is busy… you know what to do?"

Ada nodded, smiling evilly. Arthas had confided in her that the virus and the parasite were merely distractions to keep Wesker occupied while they focused on the real goal. Wesker loved thinking that he could find power in the smallest, most unimportant of creatures, things that were never even alive.

For Arthas, the real prize was waiting.

Ada nodded again and kissed her Lich King, "I'll get right on it."

"Take your time." Arthas said and chuckled wickedly.

Ada giggled and kissed him one more time before sliding out of his arms and out the door.

Arthas sneered and licked his lips, still tasting Ada's flavor as he walked over to the acolyte and observed the bloated corpse, still covered with tendrils. Crimson icicles clung to the sides of the table like daggers. Arthas grabbed one of the frozen spikes, snapped it off, and ran it across his tongue, savoring the texture of the bloody treat.

Soon, his true plan would be in motion. And when it was, nothing would ever stop him.


	8. Address to the Nation

Address to the Nation

**Author's Note and Disclaimer****: **Greetings to everyone who happens to find this. It's been a while since I've graced this site with my presence, and just as long since I've even thought about posting another fic (be it an extension of this one or just another oneshot), but I've recently caught the bug once again (which seems to happen every few months or so) and I think I finally have it in me to work on another chapter for _Reign of the Blightbringer_. I know it hasn't been "Reigny" or "Blightbringery" yet, but it is getting there… I promise.  
And I'm sorry to my subscribers who thought I may have been getting them at long last… but I still do not own the rights to _Resident Evil_ OR _Warcraft._

Leon grimaced as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were fixed on his hands, which were busy trying to fix the jumbled mess of black cloth around his neck. His hands were uncharacteristically clumsy with the hand-stitched tie, which refused to comply with his mumbled swears and orders for it to form in to the appropriate shape.

"Leon?" Claire called out from the other side of Leon's bedroom door, "You okay in there?"

The government agent sighed and pulled the tie so it came loose. "Yeah. Just finishing up." Leon held the tie in his hands, where it dangled like the obsidian skin of a dead snake. He stared deeply in to the cobalt eyes of his reflection and calmly worked on lacing the tie again. This time, his hands moved smoothly and with the precision one would expect an agent of Leon's caliber to perform: without any hesitation or mistake in their purpose. A smile crossed his lips as he tightened and adjusted the fashionable noose, yet the smile died when his inner drill sergeant berated him for taking five minutes to adjust something that normally took him thirty seconds.

It may not seem like a long time to many, but to Leon, five minutes was an eternity. In an occupation where everything could go to Hell in the blink of an eye, five minutes was enough time to get you and everyone you know killed at least ten times over.

Leon finally slung his black work jacket over his frame and made his way to the door. He could hear the tv playing in the living room as he walked down the hall. Claire was sitting on the couch with her back to Leon, and while the agent couldn't see it, he knew that she was sitting on the couch barefoot and clutching a bowl of butter-drenched popcorn that had long gone cold.

Claire turned her head from the sitcom she was watching and smiled warmly. She never said it out loud, but she liked seeing Leon in a suit and tie. "Hey."

Leon smiled just as warmly and he walked over to the couch. Allyson was curled up next to Claire, who had her bare feet on the dog's back. "Hey. Heading out?"

"Yeah," Leon nodded and looked at his watch. He frowned in response to the time, "And I should have been out the door a half hour ago."

"You'll make it." Claire kept a smile on her face as she reached in to her bowl of cold popcorn and handed Leon a few kernels, "The address starts at eight, right?"

Leon accepted the offering and started munching on the popcorn. "Yeah. President Graham said he wanted everyone there by four."

Claire looked up at the clock, which read 3:30. "You'll make it." They may have lived only fifteen minutes from the White House, but then again she remembered that she was talking to Leon, who made a habit of arriving at places at least a half hour early. "Is he going to be talking about the incident in Africa?"

"I think so." Leon said and adjusted his tie one last time, "He said he's going to be focusing more on the trouble with the economy and how to stabilize the job market. More people are interested in job security than bioterrorism these days."

"Well maybe they should get their priorities straight." Claire concluded and fished for some popcorn for herself. She flashed a smile at Leon to show that she was kidding.

It took Leon a moment to realize that she was making a joke. A split second too late for Claire, who frowned softly and stood up, "You feeling okay, Leon?"

Leon nodded, "Of course." He paused for a moment and looked at his friend. She seemed to be asking that question almost all of the time now. Whenever Leon was staring off in to space or seemed to fluster, Claire would seem to leap out of thin air and assail him with a storm or inquiries about his health and mental status.

The young survivor knew exactly what Leon was thinking. It did not exactly take a genius to know that Leon was wondering why she was suddenly acting so worried for him. She did not dare speak of the dream she had on his birthday. Nor did she wish to speak about the dream's return in the last few months. And she definitely did not want to tell him about the dreams that were even worse, the ones that made her fear today more than any other.

She felt almost like she was in a production of William Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_, playing none other than Caesar's dream-plagued wife. Yet unlike her appointed role, she could not tell her Caesar about her prophetic night terrors. Not just because the message would be as deaf on Leon's ears, but she could not bring herself to believe them either.

Leon gave her another nod and started to make his way for the door. Claire felt her words ride up from her stomach in to her throat, yet her mouth clamped shut to keep them from spilling out. The urge to throw her words out grew even stronger as Leon picked up his keys from the rack. By the time Leon opened the door, her lips gave way to the onslaught. "Leon!"

Agent Kennedy turned and faced his roommate, who was even paler than usual. Her chest was moving in shallow heaves as she struggled to keep the message down. Leon grimaced and walked over to Claire. He knew, deep down inside, that Claire was struggling with something, and he wished that she would try to share it with him.

Claire struggled and finally masked her fears with a smile, "You be safe tonight."

Leon looked in to his friend's eyes and smiled warmly, "I will." He was almost out the door when he turned and whispered, "You too."

Claire nodded back and put on her bravest face before the door slammed shut.

Claire shook as she kept her eyes on the white door. She heard the clinking of Allyson's nails on the hard wood floor and felt the warmth and fuzz of Allyson's coat graze across her legs. She shivered and bent down quickly to embrace her namesake, who seemed to understand the fear in her human companion's heart as if it were her own fear.

She turned to the door and stared at it, hoping that Leon would walk back in to the house. Hoping and praying to whatever god or spirit would listen to force Leon back in to the house and make him kick off his shoes.

Yet she knew it was as futile as yelling at the wind to stop.

Claire looked up at the clock and sighed softly. It was almost seven thirty. Jeopardy was coming to an end, and _Wheel of Fortune _would be on at any moment. With the exception of a brief moment to heat up some left-over lasagna, Claire had not moved from her spot on the couch since she had sat down nearly an hour after Leon had left. She forced herself to sit through Charles Gibson, hoping to herself that his soothing voice and report about the newest Person of the Week could get her to cheer up or forget about Leon.

Yet it was to no avail. The more she tried to forget about Leon, the more he was at the forefront of her thoughts.

The flushing of the toilet snapped Claire back to reality and she turned just in time to see Rebecca come out of the bathroom and make her way back to the couch. "There we go." Rebecca said and reached for her half-empty beer bottle.

Claire smiled warmly and kept her eyes on the television. Her hands cradled a bottle of Guinness as though it was a child, "Thanks for coming over."

"Any time." Rebecca said warmly and took a swig of her beer. She had just gotten off of her last shift for the day at around four, which was the exact moment Claire called and asked her to come and hang out. Of course, Rebecca knew that "Come on over and hang out" meant "Please come over I need someone to talk to right now", which would simply amount to the two youngest members of the survivors getting drunk while watching tv.

Rebecca laid back and took another sip. "So when is the address?"

"Eight." Claire said. Her eyes never left the screen except to glance up at the clock, whose hands seemed to dangle ominously closer to eight.

Rebecca sighed as she watched the minute hand take a baby step up to the twelve. "Claire, what are you worried about?"

Claire turned to Rebecca for the first time since she came over and said, "Nothing."

"Bull." Rebecca said, "You don't normally tense up like this, even when you're worried. Now if you need to get something off your chest, could you please do it now?"

Claire felt her fears rise up out of her gut yet again at the mention of worry. Her instincts and pride manned their battle stations as the worries rose up and advanced on the battlements.

Rebecca leaned across the table and set the beer down, "What's going on, Claire?"

The youngest Redfield turned to the youngest member of the former S.T.A.R.S team and sighed, "Nothing. Really."

"Uh huh." Rebecca said, "Look are you and Leon having any… " She waved a hand in a circular motion slowly, "you know… issues?"

Claire huffed, "No! No we're not having issues of any kind."

"Oh." Rebecca said and looked down. Her head darted up and she quickly added, "Would you want any?"

"No!" Claire snapped back, causing the former medic to shrink back. Claire gathered herself and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. No." She bent down and run her hands through her hair. "I… I don't know what's going on, Rebecca. I wish I did. I really do."

Rebecca frowned and shifted over to Claire and wrapped her arms around the youngest Redfield. "Hey. Hey, it's okay. What's happening, hun? You know I'm here to listen."

Rebecca ran every scenario she could think of and whispered, "Does Leon have a girl?"

"No." Claire shook her head.

Rebecca thought again, "… A guy?"

"No!!" Claire replied and found herself laughing. Neither of them had noticed that the President's State of the Union Address was now being broadcasted. Claire looked at her friend and said, "It's just… I've been having some… really… weird dreams, lately."

Rebecca nodded, as if she understood. "Dreams aren't anything new to us."

Claire nodded, "But not like the ones we normally have. I mean… okay yeah there are zombies and stuff but… it's not like the dreams we're used to."

Rebecca frowned and leaned closer. "Really? Like what?"

Claire inhaled deeply and looked at the screen. She saw Leon standing directly behind the President, his eyes scanning around like a hawk on the prowl. Maybe she had nothing to worry about. Maybe her dreams were just that. Dreams.

Just as she turned to face Rebecca, a shot rang out on the tv and all the world erupted in screams and cries.

Claire and Rebecca leaned as far as they could in their seats, their faces pale and their eyes glued to the chaotic world on the television. Senators and Congressmen were clamoring out of their seats as Secret Service and Marines poured in to the room to clear it.

The blood in Claire's veins turned to ice and her lungs filled with ice water. Her eyes scanned the screen desperately and realized that in the chaos, Leon and the President were no where to be seen.

Claire gasped and felt a knife go through her heart when she heard a reporter shout, "The President and one of his aides have been shot!"


End file.
